


The White Wolf and His Bard

by tupti



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor, M/M, Mostly Gen, Song: Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (The Witcher), sort of angsty humor though?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22938055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tupti/pseuds/tupti
Summary: It has been two years since the incident on the mountain. When Geralt runs into Jaskier again, he learns how the bard has continued his career in the meantime...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	The White Wolf and His Bard

It’s a couple of years after his break-up with Jaskier. Geralt rides into a village that needs to get rid of a manticore. He heads for the inn, because that’s where you get information and, more importantly, that’s where you get ale. As he approaches, he hears cheering and shouting from within the tavern and then… a song.

He physically can’t roll his eyes back as far as he’d like to. How is he ever going to forget the bloody bard when this bloody song keeps haunting him? By now, there doesn’t seem to be a single person on the continent who doesn’t know it by heart. _Toss a coin to your Witcher…_

He considers leaving. Then he recognizes the singing voice and his heart skips a beat.

Before his sense can catch up with him, he slips into the tavern like a shadow.

And there he is. He prances among his audience like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He flirts, he smiles and plays the lute like it’s nothing. Geralt notices a few embellishments to the song that he isn’t familiar with. He notices something artificial in Jaskier‘s smile. He notices… a Witcher. A Witcher?

Jaskier is dancing around a bulky man with white hair and golden eyes and a manticore’s head at his feet. It takes everything for Geralt not to gawp. He needs a few moments to figure out what he feels. It’s not anger that someone took the job before him, not annoyance for having lost the money, it’s… it’s indignation! How dare this man… what? Impersonate him? Imitate him? Steal _his_ fucking bard and _his_ fucking song?

And suddenly, he feels helpless.

He really, desperately wants to leave, but can’t force himself to. It’s been so long since he’s heard Jaskier‘s voice and he can’t tear himself away. So he huddles in a dark corner and orders a tankard of ale, and another one and another one… 

He wouldn’t have done it, had he been sober, he tells himself. Or maybe he would have. The villagers celebrate for a long time, but in the early morning hours, the tavern empties. Jaskier has long since vanished with some conquest or other and Geralt approaches the Witcher with the white hair.

“What name do you go by?”

The Witcher looks up and smiles.

“Erano. Nice to meet you. Please, sit! Who do I have the honour with?”

Geralt takes a seat across from him and looks him over. “You’re travelling with… the bard?” He can’t say his name, not aloud, not to him.

Erano shrugs. “He approached me. Said, we could earn a lot of money together. Do you know he’s famous? Everyone loves him. Well, almost everyone. He’s cheeky, he gets into a lot of trouble, but he’s a good man. To be honest…” Erano lowers his voice. “I’m new at this whole Witcher thing. He showed me the ropes a bit and it really helped.”

“Showed you the ropes?” For the first time in his life, Geralt feels what he would describe as _flabbergasted_.

“Yeah. Told me to dye my hair white, too. Don’t know what that is about, honestly. Fits his songs, I reckon. Apparently he used to travel with another Witcher, but he doesn’t talk much about it.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.”

“Geralt!”

They both startle. Jaskier ist standing there, his eyes wandering from one Witcher to the other. Geralt’s heart pounds faster, blood rushes to his ears. He cocks his head and tries to convey _What the fuck, Jaskier?_ with his eyes.

The bard seems to be frozen in place.

“Any cuckolds in sight?”, Erano asks. “Do you need protection?”

Jaskier shakes his head, uncharacteristically quiet. He can’t seem to tear his gaze from Geralt. After what feels like an eternity, he vaguely gestures at the other Witcher without looking at him. “I think you should look after Coach. He probably needs some more hay.”

Erano nods, eager to please, and hurries away. Jaskier’s still glued to the spot, mouth moving slightly, but no words coming out.

Geralt raises his eyebrows. “ _Coach_?”

“He’s a loyal steed”, Jaskier mutters. His brain slowly seems to catch up with the situation and he slides onto the seat across from Geralt. “I had to make ends meet, after you…” His voice trails off. “Technically, the White Wolf is my invention, you know.”

“Of course.”

Jaskier’s face softens. “What are you doing here, Geralt?”

The Witcher sits back in his chair. “I was looking for a job. Apparently, there isn’t one anymore.”

“Yeah, well. Erano is a bit clumsy and inexperienced, but he’s strong. He gets the job done.”

“And you get the coin.”

“We both get the coin. Are you here to reproach me?”

“As I said: I was just looking for a job.”

The following silence hangs heavy between them. It feels like there’s an invisible wall, built out of two years of uncertainty. Geralt often wondered how the bard had been getting on, but didn’t allow himself to dwell on these thoughts. Now he is looking at him and every feeling he repressed comes roaring back. He sent him away. Jaskier could have died on that mountain and his blood would have been on Geralt’s hands.

The Witcher coughs uncomfortably. “I’m glad you haven’t been… eaten”, he growls.

Jaskier blinks indignantly. “Oh. Oh! Is that… is that supposed to be an apology, Geralt? Because it very much sucks, if you ask me!” He leans back and crosses his arms in front of his chest. A challenge.

Geralt catches himself wanting to leave. He can’t stand situations like this, he is not the type for flowery emotional exchanges. He was unfair to Jaskier, they both know it. Why does he have to say it?

“I…” His right hand gestures helplessly. “It… Back there… Hmm.” He looks down and tries to compose himself.

The bard sighs heavily. “Just leave it, Geralt.” He doesn’t sound angry, just so deeply disappointed that it breaks the Witcher’s heart. He hears the rustling of silken garments as Jaskier gets up from his chair.

“No!”

He hadn’t meant for it to come out so desperately. He hadn’t meant for it to come out at all. But at least, it stops Jaskier in his tracks. At least, he doesn’t have to watch him walk away again. He couldn’t bear that, not another time. “I missed you”, he whispers. The bard sits down again, but doesn’t talk. He listens.

Geralt forces himself to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry. I unloaded anger on you when you weren’t to blame. At least, not for everything.”

Jaskier smiles softly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Hmm.”

The bard looks down on his hands and fidgets nervously. “Now, do you think… we might be friends again? Because, truth be told, Erano is a bit daft. And he’s driving me crazy with all his talking.”

Geralt wouldn’t say, he laughed. Chuckled maybe, if Witchers chuckled.

An hour later, they are on the road again, Jaskier prattling away, twanging a melody on his lute now and then, and Geralt, silent and content: the White Wolf and his bard.


End file.
